



^• 0 t , •" , . . '°* c , ~ ^Sj, ** • • • 

*«.?;■• .0^ %> *«?$*?♦ .A 4 ' <> °%f^V ^ 

. *i<Rt^I*- ‘vj j-j. 1 ® ,* 1 '*« ^ .cr° »• * • 

^o* *b& :£mzta:. %.r» «?. 






% >* c # v 
♦* v» V ”rf- “ 

4 4? ^ « 


»• * # 





^ 0* 

>_ .'VlYSKS. ,° ^ 

« 4 » ■# vsVy«^ « 49 P" ( 

'<^ *•■•• 4# ^ %n' 

«\ *\ . V •!••- C* 

* a^ <» (A^y)i e v 

C Vv ®<**S2&A0l © ^ 

» C S o' 

«.»« ,(F %, ‘•'TVs* «-. 

^ c® ^b # w* 

V. - ^ • c rf55sW # . ^ j'®’ » 

- ^d* ?«^§ra&k *• 



o. •-Tn*' A '^. ’•?.?«' A 'VK. '■*">WKtK* 




^ °* . 

*■»»»•' *%„ '*•!■> 



V _*!.••* *cv .*•-•• 


.•i&V 

* - w : 

te cP -* 

* A? % * 

C*. • • »* <Cr % *v 

% f0 * • •?•♦ "*o J>' .1... _ 

•. {&&. j „_./ .*>«%■. %. 



•;/ 

* . vy » * 

,“ ^%v v ”V * 




p ^ 4 

! *•**«£% % 




,V.-x 


'»• ^ ^ 

'^ v **i* ** «#' Oj,. * . , . • 

\r #***■„ 

yv :« 


« • ®, 


' - CX a? • 

”, • 

. aV^, 

♦ & % 


,••, A 4% 




v 


tU ■* * /ii 

v, »•?•• .# 


*. A 4 




* 9V av 
• «K a y 

\ %** : 

® aVA * 

i»v % • i< *# ^ 

0 ♦ a*©- sLjrttL* * 

« tf. ^ d? 


"Sv A 
.. V*v 

* vv ^ ..>* -** > 

A ♦* rr 
»*„»> •*>.& 




-J> .W^ >” ^ 

v/*^- ^ « 


• v •* 

**v 



* A •» 

♦ Ay '>>* * 

’••** A° ^ '"•* „<V <> '< 

C V ft o * * * t^r „ k •• x>. 

^o* :4!lrikk ’’bv 4 ;/3Rb* ’W •- 


’bt? 


4 O 
<«> 


j.°-V 


v w ^ * tzZv/luJr* r\ © *v % i v' •* ** 

,./ V^V° ... %.%?&'4 

• 1 «?* ^ aO ft_lV ) L'‘# *> 4> • * • O, O <0 V 


,v«* ® 

* A* ^ °< 


*b ** • 

V^ v « 

* ^5 ^ * 

* ** ‘ ^ 

^^ ^d* ;«dH&: ' s bv 4< 

* ,4 0, 




• .■ 






.!*!»% V x-4.° ^ x'- 


v r 

^ ^ *’ 

® t ® f^apw^^ ^ , V< 1 

aV-^ \imm$: ,4. : 

,* A 4? %> • 

4 - ♦“ 6 0 4 ,.*i‘..*c 

u •- • »- 0 y :^;-.X„« c • 


5*4 

...* 4 .d«- % -♦ 





% *•!*• 
*••- ^CV aT 



fcJJWVS^fc ft K 1 
^ '*^** ,# 




® ?> 

« ■%. . 




•** xO 

V’ ,.:v. \ 4 p 

; .* 
. ^ *J 

• 4? % • 


JuX&Vr* “ v * « * <L* •A* if v* 

5rf» A -<?x ••..• x6 4 *b VTT^ A <, 
xA * * # « # *0’ a • * " # A’ , v * ® # ^ 

*ST %* C ««5S??W # . '2 x# ^ 





« *' 


ri 4 *i 





















RECOLLECTIONS OF 1864 -5 
AFTER FORTY YEARS. 




:*«-■ . < \ . , . tw- r • y ;• t v* 1 ' . s ■> ■ , , - :v- > - i 

.. \ • ' • •• •;-•-• -- .. ; vr ... .v '% v...-. 


»%• 








> *, - s U s •• • V ' . ■ 



Recollections of 1864-5 


After Forty Years. 


WRITTEN BY 

M. S. HARVEY, 

Co. F, 13th Ohio Vol. Cav. 


This little sketch is respectfully dedicated to 

BENSON HEALE HARVEY. 

Written through the persistent requests of his father. 






















’H- a 



2 •/ 


7 




t- 


* 


« 





» f I- 

* 


2334 , 


M. S. HARVEY, 1864. 












































































Recollections of 1 864-5 


During the winter of 1863-4 I became im¬ 
bued with a spirit of patriotism, from which I 
could not dispossess myself, though I tried 
earnestly to do so, inasmuch as two of my 
brothers had already enlisted, one of them hay¬ 
ing returned home disabled for life. 

Therefore, on the 18th of February, 1864, 
with the mercury nine degrees below zero, I 
rode eleven miles to Zanesville on horseback, 
sought a recruiting station, enlisted as one of 
my country’s defenders, took the prescribed 
oath, put on the government uniform and rode 
back home, where I remained for a few days, 
performing the ordinary routine work of the 
farm. 

We were ordered to Columbus, Ohio, and 
were sent to Camp Chase, three miles west of 
the city on the National road (but now a part 
of the city). We remained here with but little 
to do (not even drilling, as we should have 
done) until about the 8th of May when we 
were mustered into the United States service 
as the Thirteenth Ohio Volunteer Cavalry for 
three years, or during the war, and were as¬ 
signed to Company F. 

About the 11th of May we were ordered to 
Washington, D. C. We went by way of Mans¬ 
field, Pittsburg, Harrisburg and Baltimore, 
traveling in freight cars such as are used for 
shipping grain, feed, etc. 

Arriving in Washington we were placed in 


5 



the barracks near the capitol building, where 
I think we spent two nights and a day. 

We then marched over the long bridge to 
Arlington Heights, Virginia, through a dreary 
rain, but everybody was cheerful, knowing that 
we were on our way to the front and that we 
would soon get into active service, which was 
our crowning ambition. 

Having arrived on the Heights we were is¬ 
sued field tents, commonly called “dog tents.” 
They were about five feet long and five feet 
wide; each soldier was allowed to draw two 
pieces and by two boys tenting together, they 
would have side pieces and a piece for each end 
of their tent. Each piece of canvas was pro¬ 
vided with several short loops of rope at one 
end and a row of buttons and button holes at 
the other, so that it could be doubly fastened at 
the top. We put them up by driving two sticks 
into the ground about four feet high; a pole 
was put across these, the canvas was drawn 
taut, staked to the ground, two end pieces were 
hung on and we were ready to crawl in and 
go to sleep. This was all very nice when there 
was no hard marching to do, but when the first 
forced march came everything that could be 
disposed of was thrown away, saving nothing 
but blankets, frying pan, rations, canteen, am¬ 
munition and gun. 

But to return to my narrative. The rain 
continued to pour down and with clothes 
soaked and the ground soaked beneath our feet, 
it was a very uncomfortable introduction to 
the life that was before us and a sorry con¬ 
trast to the comforts of homes that we had so 
recently left. 

A large barn stood about one-half mile 
from us on a small hill; when night came I 
took two comrades and in the darkness passed 
the guards, slept comfortably in the barn and 
returned to camp early in the morning, to find 


6 


the boys in a frenzy of rage and cursing with 
oaths unutterable. For some large boxes had 
been opened and the regiment was being armed 
with Springfield rifles and was ordered to 
serve as infantry during the campaign of ’64. 
But there was no redress; military orders must 
be obeyed. 

Being armed and rationed we were now 
ready for service and were marched down the 
Potomac to Alexandria. Halting here for a 
few hours, I visited the spot where Colonel 
Ellsworth was shot for pulling down the rebel 
flag. Here, too, T first saw the “slave block,” 
that upon which negroes were compelled to 
stand while being sold to their fellow men. 
After a few hours’ stay here we boarded a 
steamer and had a beautiful trip down the 
Potomac, passed Mt. Vernon, the former home 
of George Washington, and finally landed at 
the mouth of Aquia creek, that being the ba* e 
of supplies for the Army of the Potomac. We 
marched to the heights above the landing and 
camped among the graves of the dead of 
Hooker’s army. 

We left here in a few days, guarding to the 
front an immense wagon train consisting of all 
kinds of supplies for Grant’s army. To each 
wagon was hitched six mules, many of them 
wild, untrained animals that had never been in 
harness, having been bought in different parts 
of the country by government agents; and the 
tangle and confusion in that train was enough 
to weary the patience of the saints. The train 
was many miles in length and was a wonderful 
temptation to the hungry Confederate army. 

Before starting we had been issued one hun¬ 
dred and twenty rounds of ammunition and 
five days’ rations. This, with a canteen of 
water and our camp equipage made a load no 
soldier could carry and march through the heat 
and dust. Therefore, when weary and footsore 


7 


we began to throw away that which was the 
least needful and by the close of the first day’s 
forced march, we were relieved of about every¬ 
thing but the clothes on our bodies, one wool 
and one oil blanket, canteen and frying pan. 
Our guns, ammunition and rations we never 
parted with under any conditions. 

We crossed the Rappahannock at Port 
Royal through a perfect deluge of rain and 
hail and went into camp on the low lands near 
the river. I went to a hedge nearby and gath¬ 
ered several armfuls of brush and made quite 
a heap, spread my blanket on top and thought 
I would sleep above the flood that night. But 
the waters came down from the surrounding 
hills, my brush pile settled beneath its weight 
and when I awoke in the morning one-half of 
my body was under water and that part of it 
will never be any colder when in the grave 
than it was that morning. As I had been away 
from the comforts of home only but a short 
time, I thought such exposure would kill a boy 
in a few hours. But a pint of hot water, a lit¬ 
tle fat meat and a couple of hard tack, accom¬ 
panied by some hard marching, soon made me 
feel as well as ever. 

We got our train through safely, which 
caused many a Yankee soldier’s heart and 
stomach to swell with gratitude and hardtack. 

We were now fully in the enemy’s country 
and the destruction and devastation of war 
was all around us. This part of the country 
had been so over run by both armies that 
scarcely a vestige of property was left of any 
value whatever that fire would consume or 
that either army could use or destroy. All 
that was left on those grand old plantations 
was the growing timber and the tall chimneys 
that marked the place where once stood the 
palatial residence of the slave holder. Not a 
book of any kind, not even a domestic fowl was 


8 


to be seen in all this country. Everything de¬ 
structible was destroyed. This was part of the 
penalty they were paying for their sacred in¬ 
stitution which caused them to be disloyal to 
their country. 

We joined the army of the Potomac and 
took part in the flank movement from Spotsyl¬ 
vania Court House to Cold Harbor and the 
James river. 

The distance from the Rappahannock to 
the James river is not great, but the counter¬ 
marches and flank movements we made, ex¬ 
posure, lack of rations and water, with the loss 
of sleep and the forced marches we made, wore 
out many a stout, rugged boy and filled many 
a home with sorrow. 

Soon after crossing the Rappahannock, a 
rebel spy was caught in our lines. The last I 
saw of him he was lying on his back with arms 
extended and hands tied to bayonets driven 
in the ground and a bayonet on each side of 
his neck, so that the shoulders of the bayonets 
closed down tight on his throat, and a soldier 
with loaded musket stood over him. 

About the first of June we waded the North 
Ann river, the water coming up to our shoul¬ 
ders. We placed our ammunition and blankets 
(our rations being exhausted) on the ends of 
our guns, held them over our heads and 
plunged into the river, the taller boys holding 
the shorter ones from being washed down 
stream. We landed on the other shore with the 
loss of but few men and were rushed forward 
as rapidly as possible for some great movement 
was being accomplished, though we were as 
ignorant of the object in view as a child would 
be of the controlling forces of a ship at sea. 

Late at night, we went into camp and were 
issued a ration of beef that had just been 
killed; at this moment the bugle sounded and 
we were ordered to fall into line and be ready 


to march in three minutes, tor our guide had 
led us into a trap and we were within the rebel 
lines. Sixteen men were detailed and given 
sixteen muskets, eight being loaded with ball 
and eight with blank cartridges, so that no sol¬ 
dier would know who fired the fatal shot. The 
guide was taken just beyond the edge of the 
camp, when the report of sixteen guns was 
heard almost as the sound of one, and he never 
led another army. 

As we had been out of rations all day 1 
tried to swallow some of the raw beef that had 
been given us, while the animal beat was still 
in it, but it was a miserable failure. 

Then followed the most distressing night 
march of my life. Hungry, weak, tired and 
footsore, in a steady downpour of rain we 
started out in the den«e darkness, trying to 
follow each other over a blind road, sometimes 
almost mired in the mud, sometimes stepping 
into the rotten carcass of a dead mule, some¬ 
times straggling out of the road and striking 
square against a tree, as we could not see one 
inch ahead of us in that dense pine forest. I am 
sure that more than once I was sound asleep 
that night while marching. 

About midnight we came to a river where 
the rebels had destroyed the bridge, all but 
the four sills on which we crawled over. 

Three times during that night I spread my 
blankets by the roadside, completely ex¬ 
hausted; but after a short rest some strength 
and ambition would return and I would be up 
and march again, and it was well I did, for 
some rebels we captured the next day sa : d they 
wakened many of our boys with their bayonets 
the next morning and made them prisoners. 

Thus it continued through the night and 
until about eight o’clock next morning, when 
we were formed into line of battle and lay on 
our arms until about noon, expecting to go into 


10 


battle every minute, as there was lively fight¬ 
ing on our left and very near us. This, I think, 
was the last day’s fighting of the second battle 
of Cold Harbor. 

After the danger of an attack was over, I 
took off my shoes to rest my feet; but they 
were soon swollen so I couldn’t get my shoes 
on again and when we marched down to Pa- 
munky river later the sand was so bot I could 
scarcely endure it. Here we found some corn 
on the ground, where the Confederates had fed 
their horses; this we parched and ate and so 
got some strength until we received our rations. 

While here an «old resident who had with¬ 
stood the conflicts of two armies, offered to 
show me the exact spot where Pocahontas 
saved the life of Captain Smith; but the ro¬ 
mance soon lost interest when we discovered 
that every land owner on that river owned the 
exact spot where Pocahontas saved the life of 
Captain Smith. 

Here I met and conversed for the first time 
with General Sheridan, who was on his way to 
the extreme left of the army. In almost the 
time it takes me to write it, his engineers had 
a pontoon bridge across the river and his 
troops were crossing (two or three days before 
this we were in sight of Richmond at Fair 
Oaks, I think, but how we got there and how 
we got away again, I cannot now explain.) 

We soon left this camp and by a circuitous 
route arrived at White Landing, where the new 
base of supplies was being formed, at the head 
waters of York river. Here was a long line of 
breastworks, extending from the river below 
the landing to the river above, in the form of 
a crescent, enclosing a large tract of land that 
was used for a wagon yard that contained a 
thousand or more wagons that were being 
loaded, preparatory to changing the base of 
supplies to James river at City Point. 


11 


Southwest of us, about one mile, was a high 
hill or ridge, overlooking our camp. I said to 
a comrade one day, “What a fine position that 
would be for a rebel battery to shell our 
works.” And sure enough, the next morning 
the rattle of musketry was heard, our pickets 
were driven in, and two batteries planted on 
the ridge. Their shells soon were around us 
and in our midst. The gunboats in the river 
exploded two of their magazines and the charge 
of a land force compelled them to retire, with¬ 
out any serious loss on our side. 

About the 20th of June a large force of ns 
under the command of General Abercrombie 
was put in charge of another immense wagon 
train, loaded with supplies, and conducted it 
to the James river. 

It was currently reported that General Lee 
ordered Wade Hampton and Fitz Hugh Lee to 
capture that train at all hazards; that the very 
life of the Confederacy consisted in getting 
possession of those miles of wagons, packed 
with army rations. It seemed as if the enemy 
was all around that train at all hours of the 
day and night, dashing in on one flank and 
then on the other, then on the front, and then 
on the rear, but I think we got it through with¬ 
out the loss of a single wagon. 

Well do I remember the day we crossed the 
Chickahoming on double quick, as the rebels 
had attacked the front of the train; and when 
we were halted to form line of battle, only 
eight of our company were present to answer 
to our names, the others being overcome by 
the dust, heat and fatigue of the march, but 
in a short time the enemy was driven off and 
we proceeded on our journey. 

The next scene of special interest was at 
Charles City Courthouse, a small village near 
the James river. As we came in on the north 
the rebels “skedaddled” out on the south, 

12 


leaving the city in flames, everything being 
destroyed but the walls of the stone jail. We 
went into camp that night some two or three 
miles beyond the village, so utterly worn out 
and exhausted that we cared but little whether 
we lived or died. But that you may have some 
idea of human endurance I want to tell you 
that before we had rested ten minutes the 
bugle sounded and without food or rest we 
double quicked back through Charles City, as 
the rebels were about to capture the rear end 
of our wagon train. AVe formed in line of bat¬ 
tle across the road and for some distance on 
either side, our regiment being on the extreme 
right in a dense pine forest and the night so 
dark that no object was visible though held 
right against your face. I was near our com¬ 
manding officer when one of the staff came up 
and gave the following orders: “Hold this line 
as long as possible and if you must retreat 
order every man to take care of himself, for 
you can never get out of here as a command.” 
AVe knelt on one knee, our guns in readiness, 
expecting the enemy at any moment; we did 
not have to wait long until we heard the clat¬ 
ter of the horses’ feet, coming down the road 
at a fearful speed; but before they got well in 
range some one near the center of the line fired 
his gun; this, added to the tensity of our 
nerves, was a little more than we could stand, 
so, without orders, the whole line let forth 
such a simultaneous volley that you would 
think the sound would reach the uttermost 
parts of the earth. I suppose Wade Hampton 
thought he had run against the whole Army of 
the Potomac in solid phalanx, for he retreated 
hastily and made no further effort to get our 
wagon train. That you may know what shoot¬ 
ing is sometimes done under excitement I wish 
to say that there were pickets in front of us 
(we not knowing it at the time) but none of 


13 


them were hurt for they said the bullets cut 
the branches far above their heads. 

The comrade in my rear, Alva James, held 
the muzzle of his gun very near or against my 
left ear when he fired and the hearing in that 
ear is defective today. 

We felt around in the dark and piled up 
logs as best we could for breastworks and when 
daylight came found our way back to the road 
and that day reached the river, where we were 
under the protection of the gunboats; here we 
rested for a few days, washed the dust from 
our bodies, and filled our stomachs with hard¬ 
tack until our cartridge belts were tight again. 

We crossed the James river, being so re¬ 
newed in body and spirit that we felt strong 
enough to whip the whole Confederacy and the 
northern sympathizers combined. 

This ended our hard marching for the cam¬ 
paign of ’64. We went by easy stages in a 
southwesterly direction until we reached the 
union line of works in front of Petersburg and 
south of the Appomatox river. Here was a 
change of tactics. We had been marching and 
skirmishing, a dash here and there and away 
again, under constantly shifting scenes. 

But here we were confronted by a heavy 
line of defenses. Here was the much-boasted of 
“test ditch” in which they would die before 
yielding to the Yankee army. Their works ex¬ 
tended from South of Petersburg to northwest 
of Richmond, a distance of thirty miles or 
more, and ours ran parallel to theirs, as close 
as we could get and constantly crowding up 
closer. 

Before entering into active service here, we 
were given a few days’ rest. And to show the 
moral, or rather immoral condition of our regi¬ 
ment, I will give an incident or two. We never 
had a chaplain; in fact, I think a minister could 


14 


not live in such an atmosphere; yet the boys' 
were as brave as they were wicked. 

The regiment adjoining ours had a chaplain 
who held religious services several times each 
week. I have seen some of our boys at night 
seat themselves on the ground and play cards 
by the light that lighted the sacred page and 
there gamble through the entire service. On 
the Fourth <of July we were issued a large ra¬ 
tion of whiskey, in fact, a boy could get almost 
any amount he wanted, and a more drunken, 
disorderly lot of boys was never seen. A rough 
and terrible fight soon began and in a little 
while it became so general that there were not 
enough sober men in the regiment to quell the 
disturbance and another regiment had to be 
called out with loaded muskets to quiet the 
boys. But the most of the animosity subsided 
when the force of the stimulants was gone. 

About the ninth or tenth of July we entered 
the main line of breastworks and then followed 
twenty-one days of hell. There is no other word 
in the English language that will describe the 
awful experience of those twenty-one days 
which culminated in a charge into the very 
pit of destruction. 

Death and misery in our midst; day and 
night working constantly to strengthen our 
lines; bullets constantly whistling about us 
and the rebel mortar guns dropping their shells 
continually in our entrenchments; cutting and 
carrying from a long distance large poles 
which we placed in tile ground, with their 
points towards the enemy, at an angle of forty- 
five degrees; advancing our lines whenever it 
could be done—this was accomplished by mak¬ 
ing a pretense of an attack on either side of the 
point we wanted to advance and while the 
enemy was expecting one attack, a party with 
picks and shovels would advance and work 
with all their might until discovered, then the 


15 


enemy’s shots made it so hot for them they 
would have to retreat under cover of our 
works. They sometimes located us by the light 
of a great many shells they caused to explode 
near where they thought we were at work. 
This was continued every night and day until 
our bodily and spiritual strength became so 
exhausted that life had but little attraction for 
us. To show you how indifferent we were to 
danger and how deadened our sensibilities be¬ 
came, I remember coming in from work one 
day and, lying down in the trench, I went to 
sleep. So dead were my nerves that a ten-pound 
shell exploded within less than fifteen feet of 
me, but I did not waken until the hoys dragged 
me into the bomb proof for safety. 

A few days after this, a group of us was 
resting in the works when a Minie ball came 
diagonally across the works and struck my 
knee, not breaking the flesh, but causing much 
pain at the time. I accused the boys of having 
thrown it, but found, on picking it up, that it 
was very hot, being a spent ball from the 
enemy’s lines. 

Our line of works at this place was not more 
than five feet high, therefore, we were kept 
constantly in a stooping position for the rebel 
sharpshooters would put a bullet into anything 
that appeared above the works. 

On one night I was detailed with several 
others to bury a comrade; one of the party 
was seriously wounded, another slightly so, 
and the bullets flew about so lively that we 
were obliged to abandon the task for that 
night. 

Our food was prepared for us far in the 
rear and carried to us in camp kettles. I re¬ 
member being at the rear one day, where the 
meals were being prepared, and a spent ball 
struck our cook, Lawson McClain, on the chest 
and knocked him flat on his back, but the 


16 


force of the ball was so nearly spent that he 
was not seriously Hurt. 

I mention these incidents that you may 
know what strange things happen in war. 

While in these lines we were constantly 
suffering for want of water, sleep and proper 
food. But why continue these stories of those 
twenty-one days of horror, those days of un¬ 
speakable distress and anguish, that our nation 
might be preserved in all its splendor and 
power? But this, my dear boy, I think will 
give you a faint idea of the meaning of the 
word “war.” 

About July twenty-fifth we advanced to 
the picket line, a small line of defenses for the 
purpose of checking the enemy in case they 
made a charge, while the main line got ready 
for the attack. This picket line was about 
two or three hundred yards in advance of the 
main line, and could only be reached by pass¬ 
ing through a covered way. This was a ditch 
about eight feet wide and six or eight feet 
deep, dug in a zigzag line by throwing the dirt 
to each side and in advance as we went. 

The night we entered this line was very 
dark and in feeling about for a place to sleep 
I found a rifle pit, or small hole, into which I 
dropped and three times during that night 
bullets struck the earth a few inches above my 
head; the dirt crumbling into my face awak¬ 
ened me, but in a few minutes I would be 
asleep again, as if no danger was near. 

Here one-third of our men were kept on 
duty all the time, with orders to keep up a con¬ 
stant firing, so that the enemy could not form 
for an attack or strengthen their lines in any 
way. 

Thus the days passed until the night of 
July twenty-ninth, when we were relieved by 
other troops and issued rations and additional 
ammunition. We knew that some great move- 


17 


merit was being made but just what it was we 
could only guess. 

But for some reason beyond our knowledge, 
the boys all seemed unusually sober and serious 
that night. No profanity or vile talk was 
heard, everybody’s thoughts seemed to be of 
home and dear ones in the north. By some in¬ 
tuitive knowledge we seemed to understand 
that some awful tragedy was about to be en¬ 
acted. We were not left long in doubt. 

About three o’clock in the morning of the 
thirtieth, we were marched a little to the right 
and there, massed on a low piee of ground, 
were many thousand boys in line of battle with 
bayonets fixed for the charges. We were ord 
ered in line. With bayonets fixed and guns at 
half cock, we lay flat on the ground. Then we 
knew that the long-talked-of mine was to 
be exploded and the rebel fort, Elliott, was to 
be blown up and that a great battle Avas to take 
place in the morning. 

We were lying about seventy-five feet east 
of the rebel fort, just inside our line. A feAV 
minutes after sunrise the earth rose under us 
several inches, it seemed, then receded again, 
and, looking to the Avest, we saAV an immense 
volume of smoke and dirt mingled Avith men, 
cannon, small arms, boards, camp equipage of 
every kind, ascending into the air a hundred 
feet or more; some of the men fell near our 
lines and came in among us in a dazed and 
half unconscious condition, not knoAAung what 
had happened. I saAV one man pick up a union 
soldier’s haversack and carry it aAvay. 

In an instant a hundred cannon and fifty 
mortar guns shook the earth Avith their deafen¬ 
ing roar and poured their immense weight of 
shot and shell into the rebel works for about 
fifteen minutes, but that fifteen minutes 
changed what would have been a grand victory 
into a disgraceful defeat. 


18 


When the explosion took place, the rebels 
fled in consternation for some distance on each 
side of the fort, thinking the whole line would 
be blown up. By the time we were ordered to 
charge, they had returned to their works and 
received us with deadly volleys. 

Immediately after getting over our own 
works a bullet grazed my right cheek, a few 
steps further, and one grazed my left cheek. 
Men were falling all around us, but we went 
straight to the crater and within its hollow we 
were ordered to lie down. The rebels got a 
terrific crossfire on us, the air seemed literally 
full of bullets, grape and canister and bursting 
shells. 

We had not been there long when a shell 
burst very near me, a piece striking my left 
hip, making a great rip in my clothes; the con¬ 
cussion disabled me for the time, but I was not 
seriously wounded. Lieutenant Jewel (who a 
few moments later was instantly killed) ord¬ 
ered Cy Hoar to help me off the field. 

As we were returning to our lines, we came 
to a wounded man, standing in a stooping posi¬ 
tion ; a lar.ge shell struck him, and no part of 
that man could be seen. 

But why dwell longer on this awful trag¬ 
edy? Let it be forever effaced from human 
memory. The moral effect of this badly man¬ 
aged affair was very depressing. Many of the 
boys were completely discouraged and were 
willing to accept peace on any terms. 

As there had been no rain for so many 
weeks, and there were so many soldiers crowd¬ 
ed into these lines, the surface of the earth be¬ 
came very filthy. The dust in many places 
was a moving mass of vermin. Soon after this 
battle there came a tremendous rain and as 
water could now be obtained I went to the 
branch to wash some clothes and I think every 
pint of water contained a score of maggots. 


19 


But in a few days we made a flank move¬ 
ment to the left and got out into a clean coun¬ 
try, and on the nineteenth of August we made 
a dash and captured the Welden Railroad a 
few miles south of Petersburg. 

On the twentieth we fortified our position. 
Some heavy rains prevented our supply train 
from getting up, but boxes of coffee were car¬ 
ried upon mules and our strength was sus¬ 
tained for the work by drinking strong coffee. 
We would drink a pint of coffee, then work 
about two hours, drink more coffee, then dig 
and shovel with all our might. But the next 
day the substantial came and the aching void 
was soon filled. 

On the twenty-first they tried to re-take 
the railroad and though our works were not 
half completed, they afforded us great protec¬ 
tion and a feeling of security. Heretofore we 
had been the attacking party and they were 
behind the works, but here it was the reverse 
and we waited in comparative security to re¬ 
ceive them. This was the most systematic en¬ 
gagement I ever witnessed. The rebels formed 
three columns deep in the edge of a pine woods 
about three hundred yards distant; the space 
between the works and our line of works was a 
clean, level meadow. Not a shot was fired by 
either side while they were forming, except by 
their batteries which were continually shelling 
our lines. We reserved our fire for a short 
range, our orders being not to fire a gun until 
the cannon in the center fort opened fire. 

With a yell they came across the meadow in 
splendid style, everything in our line being as 
still as death. When they got within about 
a hundred yards of us, the signal was given 
and an awful volley of musketry, grape and 
canister was poured into the advancing col¬ 
umns; the great gaps that were mowed into 
their ranks by the artillery was horrible to 


20 


behold; large numbers of men falling to the 
ground, never to rise again, or to be borne 
away crippled and maimed for life. 

One brigade threw down their arms and in 
the act of giving themselves up, others took 
advantage of them and tried to gain possession 
of our works; there was close fighting for a 
time, but they were soon driven back and made 
no further attempt to take the road. There 
are some incidents that, after a battle, though 
of comparatively small importance, affect our 
sympathies more than the shock of battle it¬ 
self. A few days after the fight of the 19th, 
I was passing over the ground and found in 
the cornfield, in the wood, in the patches of 
briars, fresh mounds of dirt and a pine board 
at the head and many of the inscriptions were 
“Unknown of the Union Army;” or “Un¬ 
known of the Confederate Army.” Somebody’s 
dear boy was buried there, never to be found. 

Our next move was south to Reams Station, 
where an engagement was in progress. We ar¬ 
rived about dark, just in time to hear the 
screeching of the last few shells and to cover 
the retreat, for the battle was so evenly waged 
that both armies retreated as soon as night 
came. 

The night was intensely dark. The supply 
train, artillery and ambulance got in a tangle 
in a dense pine woods and completely block¬ 
aded the way. 

The flashing lightning, the heavy thunder, 
the shells from the enemy, torrents of rain 
pouring down, all mingled with the groans 
and screams of the wounded and the cursings 
of the teamsters, made a night never to be for¬ 
gotten. But we all got out sometime during 
the night and the next day marched back and 
began strengthening our line north of where 
we took the Weldon railroad. 

Our rations ever since we commenced the 


21 


seige of Petersburg had consisted of fat meat, 
beans, sugar, hard tack and coffee and we were 
so starved for fruit and vegetables that I 
bought a pie for fifty cents (dried apple pie 
at that), a comrade got a half pint of con¬ 
densed milk for fifty cents and I never en¬ 
joyed a feast more. 

Our work now was to strengthen the line 
that had been extended and it took lots of 
hard work to make miles of breast works. 

We spent a number of days in an old bog 
with no water to drink, but the surface water, 
which became so foul that we had to hold our 
noses while we drank. As a result, a great 
many of us became sick. I was sent to City 
Point, then to Washington, D. C. 

About the first of November all soldiers 
who were able to travel were “furloughed to 
vote,” regardless of age (though not to vote 
illegally), as riots were feared in the north 
(there being a large element there that sym¬ 
pathized with the south) and the government 
thought that the appearance of “blue coats” 
among them would have a quieting effect. 

At the end of thirty days I returned to 
Washington, where I remained during the win¬ 
ter, as I recovered very slowly from the fever; 
but I was able to go about the city, visiting all 
the places of interest and attending many of 
the sessions of Congress. 

On the 4th of March, 1865, I was present at 
the second inauguration of Abraham Lincoln 
and there saw many noted men: General Scott, 
Secretary Sumner, Seward, Chase and others. 
I attended the inaugural ball, it not being so 
select then as now. A few days later I attended 
a public reception given by the president at 
the White House and there shook hands with 
President Lincoln, the truest and grandest 
patriot that ever lived. 

Early in March I returned to my regiment, 


22 


and found them in winter quarters near where 
I left them. The most important change was 
that they had received their horses and were 
fully equipped as cavalrymen. There was a 
nice sorrel horse ready for me, for which I 
was very grateful. We spent some time every 
day in horseback drilling which was very in¬ 
teresting and useful as many of the boys were 
not accustomed to riding and managing a 
horse. The drill we had one day I think is 
worthy of special mention. It was a brigade 
or perhaps division drill for there were several 
thousand of us in the field. The drill ground 
was a large, level tract of land, free from all 
obstructions. The orders were given by the 
commanding officer, through a speaking trum¬ 
pet and repeated by each subordinate officer 
and then executed by the entire command. 
This large body of mounted troops, under the 
control of one man, with armor glistening in 
the mornin.g sun, was a most brilliant spec¬ 
tacle ; but the climax was reached when we 
were formed into three lines of battle, our car¬ 
bines swung over our shoulders and with 
drawn sabers we charged on an imaginary 
enemy. 

At the word of command we pressed our 
spurs into the sides of our horses. The heavy 
roar of their hoofs as they dashed across the 
great plain, the flashing of our sabers and the 
polished brightness of our armor, was a sight 
never to be witnessed in times of peace. But 
the peaceful scenes of camp life were soon to 
be exchanged for active warfare. 

On the 25th of March the rebels completely 
surprised us, capturing Fort Steadman and 
breaking through our lines, cutting our com¬ 
munications with City Point, the base of sup¬ 
plies, in fact almost capturing it with all its 
immense army stores. 

We were hustled out in such haste that we 


23 


did not have time to get our coats or blankets. 
We .galloped to the scene as fast as possible 
and were halted on a corduroy road in splen¬ 
did view of a rebel fort. They were not long- 
in getting their guns to play upon us and the 
way they dropped the shells into our ranks 
was enough to try the nerves of the bravest, 
for the hardest part of a soldier’s life is to be 
under the fire of the enemy and not permitted 
to return the fire. We could distinctly see 
them load their cannon, then run them up to 
the port holes, the smoke pour out from the 
mouths of the guns, then in a moment we could 
see the shells coming, but as we were on our 
horses on a bridge through a large slough, we 
were obliged to take the consequences. Several 
men and horses were struck but we soon moved 
off and spent the remainder of the day and 
the night supporting the infantry and trying 
to keep warm without blankets or overcoats; 
the ground under us was quite frozen. 

On returning to camp the next morning we 
found everything in motion, for the great 
movement that culminated in the capture of 
Lee’s army was begun. All camp equipage was 
abandoned, except that which was especially 
necessary for active service. My horse, which 
had shown some signs of weakness for a few 
days, was condemned as unfit for field service, 
and I, with all other dismounted men of the 
regiment was formed into a detachment to act 
as a reserve force for any emergency that 
might arise. 

On the 28tli or 29th everything was on the 
move, Sheridan’s cavalry in the lead, then all 
the infantry and artillery except what was re¬ 
quired to man the works around Petersburg 
and Richmond. 

On the 2nd of April I was on picket about 
half a mile from, and in plain view of, the rebel 
Fort Gregg and witnessed the deadly conflict 

24 


that put the fort in our possession and caused 
the rebels to abandon their 'whole line of works 
and surrender the city. 

The fort was a very strong one, twenty 
feet high or more, with a deep trench around 
its base, partly filled with water. Our boys 
made a magnificent charge and as they climbed 
up the sides of the fort, I could plainly see the 
rebels put their guns over the edge of the fort, 
against the heads of our brave boys and fire; 
the bodies rolled down the sides of the fort 
into the water, or the rebels would push our 
boys back with their bayonets as they crowded 
their way up to the top of the stronghold that 
had been dealing out such dreadful destruction 
until finally they were overpowered and re¬ 
treated, leaving us in possession of the entire 
line. I passed by this fort as we followed up 
the retreating rebels, but I will not attempt to 
describe the horrors of that ghastly place. 
The mangled dead v the earth, the wall, and all 
the surroundings giving evidence of the awful 
conflict that raged within, filled my young 
heart with the unspeakable evils of war. 

But to turn to a more cheerful scene. 

As we were nearing the city, we were met 
by an indiscriminate and undescribable mass 
of people, all colors, ages and conditions, who 
came out to greet Lincoln’s soldiers; but the 
most demonstrative were the negroes, little 
pickaninnies, tumbling over each other, rolling 
in the dirt, cutting as many antics as monkeys 
and apparently not many generations removed 
from them; old men, with tears streaming 
down their dirty faces which had been made 
rigid under many years of human bondage, old 
and young women dancing, singing, shouting, 
praising God, the Yankee soldier in general 
and Abe Lincoln in particular, some trying to 
embrace the soldiers in their wild delight, and 
in every conceivable way to express their 


25 


gratitude to the boys who broke the chains that 
held them in servitude for more than a hun¬ 
dred years. 

Our chief duty from this time on was to 
guard prisoners and keep down any disturb¬ 
ance that might arise in the country. 

We made our headquarters at Amelia 
Court House, where we remained until July 4, 
1865, when we were called out in line, stacked 
our .guns, piled up our knapsacks and all gov¬ 
ernment property and were mustered out of 
the United States service, being made citizens 
again of this mighty republic. 

The next day we started north. The deep 
seated joy and inconceivable pleasure that 
swelled every fibre of our beings on that jour¬ 
ney home can never be expressed. The thought 
of having put down such a gigantic rebellion, 
of having saved the life of our nation and of 
having kept her honor and her flag untar¬ 
nished, mingled with the memory of our dear 
comrades left under the sod on so many battle 
fields, the thought of being at home a,gain 
among the fond associations of our boyhood 
days, made a commingled feeling of joy and 
sadness of such thrilling intensity that none 
can form any idea of it except those who have 
experienced it. 

We took the boat at City Point and floated 
down the river to Fortress Monroe. Then we 
boarded our old steamer, packed with troops 
for Baltimore. Soon after leaving port, a great 
ocean swell struck us, being a storm driven in 
from the ocean. With a number of others, I 
was on the hurricane deck at the time. The 
wind blowing a terrific gale, the rolling of the 
vessel, the spray from the waves dashing over 
us, was all so in contrast with our former life, 
that we were having a hilarious time when the 
captain of the boat came on deck, placed us 
evenly on each side and end of the vessel with 


26 


the command, “If you want to see your moth¬ 
ers this side of Heaven, stay where we place 
you.” This quieted our spirits for the time and 
the storm soon aba tin,", we had a beautiful sail 
up the grand old Chesapeake. 

At Baltimore we took train for Columbus, 
Ohio. There we were placed in Todd’s bar¬ 
rack. situated just east of High street, where 
Goodale now crosses, there being no city north 
of that point then. 

The Barracks were enclosed with a very 
high tight board fence and well guarded on 
the outside, and there were orders to let no 
one out. 

One of our boys got a pass and by a well 
arranged plan came to a point in the fence 
and when the guard was not looking passed 
his pass through to another comrade on the in¬ 
side. This was continued until nearly half 
our company got out before the ruse was de¬ 
tected. But we enjoyed our liberty and the 
trick we played on the commanding officer. 

In a few days we were paid off and given 
our “spread ea,gle” (discharge) and ex¬ 
changed our government blue for civilian dress 
and w r ere once more citizens of our dear repub¬ 
lic. 

And now, dear boy, when you read in his¬ 
tory of this awful struggle, of the millions of 
treasure, of the hundreds of thousands of lives 
it cost, of the weeping mothers and sorrowing 
fathers, of the many wounded and crippled, 
who would be compelled to suffer on for years, 
dying day by day, knowing that their young 
lives with all their hopes and ambitions were 
given that the principle of free government 
might be perpetuated, you may ask “was it 
worth the sacrifice?” I can only reply by say¬ 
ing that while life is very precious to its pos¬ 
sessor, yet one life is of no great value to a 
community. All the functions of a community 


27 


go on apparently unimpaired by the loss of one 
or more of its members. 

This brings my little narrative to a close. 
If I have written anything to increase your 
knowledge or patriotism, I shall feel that the 
effort is well made. 

(Signed) 



Written in Columbus, Ohio, 
May 12, 1904. 


W 60 


28 






































































:>awfe''W / 

» ^ 

^ *© % 

^ aO' »■."', V V’ .*••* .. 

O ' ,(^ «,<£ » i * eft" ^ ^ 

A^ •* * * * o^ A p0m p +o • k # 

. *0 «p sLjr??l+ *t, (P *\*$$$JL* 4 ^ *♦ - 




C _*P^ *-< 

^ <) i^, ^ 


./'.. % % .tT*’ A ,.. V^ T * «/' . • V *‘ 

,v • ♦ *\> *> **•*•* C* *y »❖ y> 



•. \./ . 

■. 

•V <£ • 



/■? *f* ^ 

* 4/ * 

4 -V >„ \ywf t * a A 

■L ■*♦.•“•« ^ 





j> <* *^:° / %, ‘, 

v V y .'ZZj . *> v .!•■>-. %, 

*0. *«> % ,Q* ***** % 

' ■*—* ^ o , : ^;. ^ ^ / 


i? .»ii£C» *> 





: #*% j . 

<,•.'.■!•'/ \.' 

*<£a 0^' a 0 » • - ffy 

0° .vs$XjJL% °V 

I* ^*0* , »b# 

-; A 10 ** v“‘ 

^ <i, *?^-f. 4 aO 


y. *•»’* A 0 

c\ .0 r .iM,', 

• *K Ay ♦ 

• : 

* jy\ * ,. 

* *.^T* G ^ 


o « 


%. • • ’ A 0 % 

•;v- ^ Ap v ,.t^L r . < 


• A*^ 

° .’ 

a < aV’^ * 

IV V*. 



; *?•% : 

* «• - ... 

%<V #■ 


5 ^ 


^ ^ ww* u ^\ • - S2WS* aV 

°o A SJmA.* + 0° °o .,4.^ ,' v ' 

*» y. ** "* -. ^MM/* 









*. ’bv 1 


I • • 



%. ••• A ^ *•*’* A 0 'V. 

:•. V v\>:« 3 :.A Ar.*s*.* A 


» • » 



<3> ^ 

- . 


W 


O', 


''m£- *+. f,° V .“J^N ^ 


* d? ^ 








++ 0 * 


$ °*c> 


O * N&vT/aF * 0 ^^'ivvvSS' * tC* _ * ^kyy/lUdr y 

°<l» *•#'** 4° ***«o®* O. A? 

|f/>X ~*kf ,& **^3i£bfc'* ^ o5 ,V '%> A* , 




❖ A v ♦ 

**V '! $$&y//A “ ■'</>*»' * 

'£> 4^ . • k * * <* ^ 

+*<? ’»oV* .' 

e *‘ 


v V* » £p >) v 4 4 y V\ 

* A Jy ^> 

4 ^ • '**♦ cr & © w ** *^r 


«5 ^ 



*> 

v^ c o '???"' 4 

-* v •!,*•* A *<y »'** \ 

W 5, • 

,^'V \Wmz; y\ WMW sF • 


v?* 4 *- ^ * •Zf»** <r ■>. 

o° v^>o “ ^ % * ‘ c o* 

t, * ** 4*^ •.> . * ***£>. « ' <^Sfrv* 




i°A 


'v v^#/ o ” % ->q®>*' y 1 % *:^Bp 
. \ ••’ 0 *°. %••■•• ap* °-* *••’•* v 


° <$> ♦ 



r % 


* 

<4 ,&*• ^ 

<f>. > ,,... * 0 - A> 

c ,*^&i<. ° ** 



* -^. *; 


. V*- ? * 

!/♦ V v % »’*», cx A 0 V »• ^ 4> v 

fe\ v .*;a » 0 ^ .vjjK*. a v 4 

Fa'?* ’**bkiM0 * * 


4* Y«* % '* 


■ WERT '^1 
BOOKBINDING 
■ Graorvdie Pa^^H 
March April 198$ H 

I •'• '* OwWi'r So^oo 



^ 4 <<» •; 


<4 '»A*‘ % * 

4-^4 ^ . C 0 .^LL4>v 


: _J.°^4 • 



*^0< 


« 1 1 


• a ffl 


•• y °o. *;^ 5 * .o' 





































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































